Night Flowers
by Alien Shadow Girls
Summary: Ichigo is the reluctant slave master. Orihime is the new slave girl in town. Egyptian AU.
1. Chapter 1

Note: This was created for Bad Shield, the Ichihime fanfiction prompt LJ community. If you want more fic, or need an inspiration, come over and join us. :)

Prompt (for Simourva): Ichigo is the reluctant slave master. Orihime is the new slave girl in town. Egyptian times. Inaccuracy and crack is very encouraged.

* * *

**Night Flowers**

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

"And today is Ichigo's first day as a man!" Isshin announced. There was a couple of sniggering at the back of the household as Ichigo, beet-red with embarrassment, accepted the pouch filled with gold.

"Look, does it have to be the street of Night Flowers?" Ichigo gritted his teeth, "I could go to some other auction block and get us a laborer for the new field."

Isshin smiled, "But my son's rite of passage happens only once." He gripped Ichigo's shoulders, "Which is why you must bring home a lovely virgin. It's only tradition, after all." He leaned over to whisper, "We should've bargained for a bride like the neighbors did when their son turned 13-"

"Unless you really want to bring home another pretty man!" Tatsuki snickered. The slave girl carried some reeds for drying but she had paused to watch the spectacle on the way out.

"It won't be your first time in the Night Flower district, " commented Mizuiro, while he checked a wine vessel's contents. He then made a notation on a limestone tablet.

"Yeah, because at that time, he brought Sado home!" laughed Keigo, "for the price of TWO laborers!"

"Shut up! I was twelve and he was MY age!" Ichigo hissed, "And he's much happier in the field than with some rich old man who'll throw him away the moment his voice broke."

"That's true," Isshin conceded, "Sado's been our hardest worker for four years ever since."

"I know it's because of my age," Ichigo looked down at his feet sheepishly, "I'm just... I'm not interested in forcing a girl, that's all. Slave or not."

"And I know you won't," Isshin winked, "but I sure hope you bring home a beauty."

"A high class beauty," Karin quipped while rolling up papyrus for a finished tally, "Get a real expensive one, Ichi-nii - one with sturdy, child-bearing hips-"

"Karin!" Yuzu chided, "You should go, Nii-chan. The auction starts in an hour."

* * *

"Keep still," the old woman clucked as she set a cone of animal fat onto Orihime's hair, "it has to set into the hair so that it melts right when you're summoned for bidding."

Orihime held her breath as the woman painted her eyelids with azurite, then malachite mixed with gum for the lower lid. Her eyebrows ached from being plucked. Next came the ochre mixed with fat for her lips. Her skin glistened from being rubbed with oil all over.

"How would you like to have her painted," the old woman deferred to the man sitting on a stool observing the process, "there's no need to accentuate the curves for this one."

Aizen scarcely blinked before speaking, "No. You won't need to paint her body." Orihime shivered under the man's gaze - she wanted to at least cover her breasts, but a year's training and discipline convinced her to pretend that she wasn't naked and being dolled up for an auction.

The man stood up and unrolled a package on the table - it was dress of filmy white gauze, one that will cover her from neck to ankle, but translucent enough to show most details underneath.

"Crafty," nodded the woman in approval, "she'll be just as naked as the others, but titillating because she's still covered."

"Indeed." Aizen gestured towards the ground black galena, "After all the naked flesh, she'll look like a breath of fresh air. She has to be the most eye-catching, since she'll need to fetch the highest price tonight."

The revelation startled Orihime, and she risked a glance at Aizen. He caught it and smiled,"Did you not think that you would be worth so much?"

Orihime forced her gaze back at some far point beyond the wall. "No."

The man walked up to her and placed a hand on her head, "It's quite rare that a beauty like yours would fall into my hands untouched, and at such an age. I'm sure I can reap a good profit even if you went to the first bidder - but I do wonder who'll win you tonight. It will be most entertaining, I hope."

Orihime shuddered.

* * *

Ichigo strolled down the avenue and glanced apprehensively at the place they called the street of Night Flowers.

"I don't see why you're this reluctant to buy another slave, you're pretty good at picking out the healthy ones," Mizuiro quipped.

Ichigo tried not the glare at the scribe, "What I don't like is how I end up having to choose which ones to save."

"That's stupid, " Mizuiro replied, "We won't ever have the money to 'save' everyone."

Ichigo sighed - the scribe was cynical when it came to matters like this, but he was better to bring than Keigo, who shared his opinion but is extremely excitable. Tonight's auction was the type that was held once every couple of months - laborers were bid upon every week whenever a ship docks or a raiding party brings their spoils to the city, but young, attractive slaves trained to entertain and pleasure were harder to come by. And ones certified as virgins, even rarer - though such guarantees can be dubious at times.

"It doesn't change the fact that I want to," Ichigo sneaked a look at Sado. The giant stood by his left, a respectful distance behind him. The slave was also his default bodyguard because of his size, but Ichigo knew by instinct that, even if freed, Sado would stay loyal to him no matter what.

_On his twelfth birthday, Ichigo was given leave to purchase slaves on his own for the first time, with his own money that he had saved. He had been hoping to buy three at most, and completely under his jurisdiction unlike the other slaves at home. On the auction block, however, his eyes met the dark pools of a boy his age. The boy was thin from starvation, but he had a good height and - as Ichigo was taught to notice, his hands and feet were large, almost out of proportion. That meant he was still growing, and bound to be considerable once he finishes. His skin suggested an exotic mix of blood from further south, and his hair curled to rich locks._

_However, before the bidding could start, some traders handpicked several from the group, including the boy with the dark eyes. They were quickly snapped to a new set of chains and led to the street of Night Flowers. Startled, Ichigo left the block and followed the trader._

_"Where are you taking them?" He demanded as he caught up with the slave owner in front of a building._

_"Young master, I think you're too young to purchase one of these," commented the slaver with a smirk._

_Ichigo did his best to glare a storm at the man, "If I have enough gold to buy one of them, you'll let me, right?"_

_"Well, can you match the price of the Night Flower trainers?"_

_Ichigo turned to look at the boy, and his eyes met silent determination. "Yes." _

That same boy was now a tall, solidly built young man, who now registered surprise when Ichigo glanced at him, "Ichigo, look out-"

Ichigo slammed into another person who had been walking hurriedly to the building. The person gave an indignant huff, and Ichigo stepped back on instinct.

"My apologies," said a raven-haired girl, much smaller than Ichigo, but her large, violet eyes were cold despite her words. Ichigo frowned, "That's ok."

"Let's go," said a tall, red-haired man man to the girl. "I'm sorry, young master," he briskly steered the girl away and into a rather festively decorated building.

"Huh. They were both slaves, weren't they?" Ichigo wondered.

"My. You just ran into members of the Kuchiki household," explained Mizuiro. "They've been in the middle of an entire slew of scandals lately, despite being the wealthiest family around."

"Really? What kind?"

"That girl you ran into was named Rukia." Mizuiro nodded sagely, "she's a concubine bought by the heir, Byakuya, last year at this very house."

"She looks a bit young to be a concubine, but that's not much cause for scandal, isn't it?"

"No. But I hear she looks identical to the heir's deceased wife," Mizuiro said matter-of-factly, "and another recent concubine they had bought turned out to be pregnant before she was even sold."

Ichigo winced, "Ouch. That doesn't look good for that girl."

"Yes, but even though it's been all over the city, they've yet to demand reparations. They're not even reselling or anything like that."

"Huh, how can you be so sure - wait, how the hell did you know about that last part?"

"Oh, here and there." Mizuiro smiled, "the cooks in the Kuchiki household have great skill in the kitchen, and loose tongues in the bedroom."

"I don't want to hear any more. Where do we start, anyway?"

"Well, we might as well follow the Kuchiki house - the trade of the Illusory Moon always has the best-trained slaves for the type we're looking for."

"I still say we can spend this gold somewhere else."

"Ichigo," Mizuiro scolded, "at this point, it can be only a matter of formality if you wish. You've rejected all of the proposed brides for the past years, and every year you've only spent money on more laborers. Adding with the fact that you bought-" he glanced up at Sado, "a male the only time you set foot here, people have been speculating that the household will only be continued by your sisters."

"What? How the hell do people keep track of what I buy? And why do they think-" Ichigo spluttered and his eyes went wide.

"People have eyes and ears, young master. Now, I don't care who you bed, but if you want your reputation repaired," Mizuiro indicated the building in front of them, "you might want to make this purchase as soon as possible. Make if flashy too, that's why we're going for expensive." He turned and walked ahead of them.

"Fine!" Ichigo growled. He dared to look at his bodyguard's reaction to this rumor, only to find that Sado was looking away, hand clamped over his mouth and shoulders quaking from silent laughter.

"Are you laughing at me? Aaargh." He threw up his hands.

Ichigo marched off after Mizuiro, grumbling about their house being too nice to their servants.

* * *

"Looks like the city's finest are all gathered here," mused Mizuiro, "practically a social gathering."

"I didn't know that bedroom slaves are a big deal," wondered Ichigo.

"Well, technically, it's a complete luxury unless you were looking for a concubine or a consort," he explained, "but think of it as social status - the more slaves you don't need, the richer you must be."

"Or a rite of- AAAGH" Ichigo yelped as someone pulled on his hair

"Interesting," commented a man whose plaited hair shone blue, "look here, Nemu - this orange hair is neither a wig nor dye."

"Indeed, master," commented his slave.

"I was born with i-" Ichigo started to yell, but Mizuiro immediately stepped in, "And why would that interest you, O Great Royal Embalmer?"

"He's who?"

"Hmmmm. Lately I've been observing the traits passed between breeding humans, " replied Mayuri while inspecting the hair sample he had pulled on, "it should be as simple as the animals mating on the fields - but some things don't quite add up. Tell me, boy, what are the colors of your parents' hair?"

"First of all I don't understand why you think you can-" before Ichigo could finish, Mayuri's attention shifted to point farther into the hall, causing Ichigo to turn as well.

"Nemu, haven't we met that girl?"

Ichigo followed his gaze and completely froze, "That girl, wh-"

"Yes, we have, a couple of times, master."

Mizuiro glanced at the exhibit and appraised the subject of the men's surprise, "Oh, not bad. I thought you hated big breasts, Ichigo, considering how you hated being tutored by the Shihouin house's-" Ichigo slapped the side of his head, "Idiot! Stop thinking of things like that!"

"What do you-"

"I mean, look at her! What is she doing here?"

It took a while before Mizuiro understood, "Oh. Isn't that the apothecary's sister?"

Mayuri started mumbling to himself and walked off in the direction of the slaves being sold. Ichigo stood rooted to the spot, "I thought the slaves were usually taken from the tribes outside the city?"

"Well, I heard that Sora the apothecary died last year. He must've racked quite the debt if she's here."

As if on cue, the collared girl at the far side of the room raised her eyes and met Ichigo's. Recognition dawned on her face, then quickly replaced with mortification. She forcefully looked down onto the floor. Ichigo scowled darkly and clenched his fists.

"I've decided," he announced.

"Already? You sure you don't want to look at the others?"

Ichigo looked at Mizuiro as if he was dumb, "Are you crazy? I know her. We've been her brother's customer years ago when I was a kid. I can't just leave her here."

Mizuiro sighed, "well, I'm fine with that, young master. Except for one problem."

"What's that?"

Behind him, Sado finally spoke, "she's the highest-priced girl for tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and this fic was originally posted to the Bad Shield Ichihime Fanfic prompt community on LJ. Come and join us if you need an inspiration~

Also, thanks for all the reviews and encouragement last time! It makes me want to update as soon as I can. :3

* * *

**Night Flowers**

**

* * *

****Chapter 2:**

Ichigo watched, tensed, as the other auctions went up, bid for, and concluded. His hands were holding on so tightly onto the pouch of gold that Mizuiro wondered if the rings would end up misshapen. Just earlier, Ichigo had been counting it repeatedly until even Mizuiro had memorized the amount, but he only gave up when Sado reassured him.

Typical Ichigo, Mizuiro nodded to himself. The boy wasn't keen on leading the household yet, and he tended to make rash decisions - but once he focused on a task, he worked as if his life depended on it. Isshin was proud that Ichigo was good at getting things done, but still skeptical of making Ichigo take on several jobs at once.

"We will start at 10 kit of silver," announced the auctioneer, when they finally reached the girl he was waiting for. She was led to the platform and in better view of the crowd. Her eyes were wide with apprehension, but she kept her chin up and looked far above the top of their heads.

"That's insane," Ichigo mumbled after a quick calculation. It was already the price of two young, male slaves. All the others had begun bidding at 6 kit of silver and many ended at several kit of gold. _Very expensive slaves_, he realized.

"15," called someone from the Oomaeda house. Ichigo tried to raise a hand, but Mizuiro whispered, "Let's wait a bit and see."

"20," announced Mayuri, the Royal Embalmer.

"25," laughed the Royal Physician, Kisuke Urahara. Mayuri looked irritated, "30." People started whispering animatedly. Sweat started beading on Ichigo's brow.

"35!" Urahara called out again. Mizuiro frowned, "he's just driving up the price to drive the embalmer crazy!"

"40." Mayuri declared with an air of finality.

Ichigo gave in. "50!" he shouted. All of their eyes turned to him. Dimly, Ichigo realized that even the girl on the platform was looking at him in surprise.

"50," called a smooth, deep voice from a corner of the room. "50 kit of _gold_," Byakuya Kuchiki stated.

The crowd broke into an uproar. Ichigo spluttered, "That's twice my bid! He's insane!" Even Mizuiro had to stop gaping before he commented, "the Kuchiki household must really be sore about that last purchase."

Ichigo panicked, "But that's more than what I brought!"

"Then you've lost," Mizuiro pointed out.

"NO!" Ichigo growled, above the animated crowd. "60!"

The noise instantly died. And again, everyone turned to him. He swallowed, and his voice cracked as he continued, "60! 30 in gold, and the rest in 2 oxen and 20 arura of fertile low land near the river."

For a couple of seconds, no one spoke. Finally, someone clapped a couple of times- Ichigo and everyone turned to look at the man standing by a side entrance who had been watching the entire affair with amusement.

"Oh. How resourceful of you. Tell me, do you truly have that much, young man?" Aizen inquired.

Ichigo looked straight at him, "I'm an heir, and I have both seal and authority for the payment. My scribe can also be of service if you want it drawn up right now."

"Well then, unless someone wishes to bid higher," Aizen brandished a sweeping hand at the crowd, "this auction is over."

* * *

Inoue Orihime had always loathed and feared that silver-haired man in charge of the auctions. Ever since she had been sold to the Illusory Moon, his presence hung around her like a threat - like a swinging blade above her neck. She'd even heard stories from the other slaves - how he had almost broken a girl's mind the year before with mere words, or how his auction of his own slaves just some months ago contained flawed goods. "She was sold already pregnant," whispered one of the girls.

Orihime tried not to react when that same man held the cord bound around her neck and led her down the platform after the auction. He seemed to be incredibly amused by the turn of events, and had taken the task of leading her from the servant so that he could have a firsthand look at her.

"Ya paid Aizen-sama better than anythin' we've sold b'fore," he giggled, "I almost wish we got ya flawed, there's no knowin' what you'd have fetched on a _daily basis_."

"Gin, stop playing around," interrupted a man with dark skin and braided hair - Orihime forced herself to focus on his delicate profile, to pretend that Gin wasn't the one holding the leash. "Get her to her new master, Aizen-sama's already signed her over."

"No fun at all," Gin retorted, and gave the cord a sharp yank, "I like seeing 'em off on auction nights - ya'd think we're marchin' 'em off to their deaths." The blind man silently walked off, and Gin pulled Orihime off to the trader's room.

Orihime steeled herself as they walked. She had spent the entire past year preparing herself to be sold, and now she had no illusions as to what awaited her but, she was still shaken over several things that had transpired that evening. She had expected the worst - to be a concubine on some old man's harem, to entertain and pleasure like some doll. But in that room, suddenly meeting his eyes - her new master now, only then did Orihime realize what humiliation must truly be like.

She had met the young Kurosaki several years ago when her brother still traveled as an apothecary. The details were hazy: an ailing mother, a busy house with twin girls and a boy with hair that looked like a sunset. Her brother and a bearded man were busy haggling, so she idly played in the dust outside while waiting. And that little boy was there-

No, Orihime shook her head, it's different now. It's been years, and that nice boy probably no longer existed. She could pretend that she was somewhere else at the auction because there was hardly anyone who recognized her. But he took one look at her and she knew that he remembered. And then everything just became too real - she was being sold as a plaything, and he'll be there to see it. She had never felt so small and disgusting before, and just wished she could hide somewhere. She couldn't help but steal glances at him, and every time she did, his eyes had grown progressively darker but always, always focused on her. He must hate me, she thought, for ending up this low.

She hadn't expected him to bid, and when the moment came, a new horror set in. Why? Her mind had screamed, why did he bid for her? Did he decide that she was some interesting slave he could acquire? Does he want to take her last shreds of dignity for himself? Or was it - a faint beating in her chest dared to hope, pity or kindness? No, she dared not hope. Either way, her composure was practically broken and it was taking all of her strength just to school her expression into neutrality.

As she neared the group discussing her life embedded on a document, a sudden, vivid memory played before her.

"_Orihime," her brother smiled as he had lain on his deathbed," I'm sorry." He had taken her hand and held it tight. "But no matter what happens, keep your head high," he looked at her with eyes as clear as the sky, "and put on a brave face."_

The chatter hushed. She raised her chin and looked at her new master in the eye.

* * *

Mayuri strode home quickly, oblivious to almost everything ever since the auction ended. Nemu tried to keep up with him by adopting a half-running, half-walking pace. Time and again, she gave him almost questioning glances.

As soon as the embalmer reached their home, however, he whirled around and shrieked, "NEMU!"

She jumped, "Y-yes? Master?"

Mayuri's face almost broke in half with the wide grin that slashed across it, "Get me that book of peerage!"

The girl looked stunned, "I-I thought you were furious, master."

"Oh, why do you say that?" Mayuri's grin turned on an almost sadistic tinge, "Are you questioning me now?"

"Uh - but you lost the auctio-"

"Silence!" Mayuri, held up a hand that fully displayed the scholarly long fingernail grown out of luxury, "that girl may have been a very useful specimen for my studies, but I didn't expect that orange-haired boy to make a bid for her."

"I don't understand."

"As it stands, she might just be the perfect candidate to prove my latest treatise on breeding traits." Mayuri's rubbed his palms together, "Now, get me my ink and some new papyrus - hurry! I need to take some notes. And alert the slaves - if they hear of any children to be conceived in the Kurosaki household, I want to be alerted at once. Fufufufu~"

"Understood, Mayuri-sama."

* * *

Rukia watched as her master practically glided as he walked. He was very elegant, she had to admit, but he was cold and very distrusting. For the whole year that she had spent in the Kuchiki house, he had hardly spared any attention for her beside some glances. She was a concubine, but he was always preoccupied or called off to their other estates, that Rukia felt she was pretty much bought to be an ornament for the house.

Beautiful, she thought, like a statue.

Contrast that with Renji, the taskmaster. He almost loped as he walked, and from behind, she could see that his torso was covered with extensive tattoos. Of her tribe. She knew that walk by heart - it was the stride of the hunter surveying a plain, of a wolf preparing to bare his fangs. She had it instilled in her legs as well, but unlike Renji, she exercised more caution. She chose to walk daintily, almost meekly. Within the company of several servants and scribes, she could almost disappear. Another kind of hunter.

When they reached the house, everyone started to disperse, and Kuchiki Byakuya disappeared down the darkened corridors leading to his chamber without even acknowledging her. Rukia had glanced at Renji, and they shared a look.

Someday, Rukia thought, her eyes narrowing, even a statue like Kuchiki Byakuya will crumble.

* * *

Ichigo found himself staring into Orihime's eyes, but she looked at him blankly, almost pleasantly. There was an awkward silence while Ichigo found himself at a loss for words.

Mizuiro cleared his throat, "I believe we should hurry home now, young master." Another servant handed Sado a wooden box that was pitifully small, but contained all of Orihime's belongings.

"Aa-," Ichigo replied absently, even as a smirking Gin handed him the leash. "We ought to be going."

"Indeed," Aizen stood up from the table and gave a polite bow, "it was a pleasure doing business with you."

Ichigo tore himself from Orihime's gaze to acknowledge Aizen, then walked stiffly to the exit, hoping that he wouldn't need to pull on the leash. Thankfully, it slackened in his grip to indicate that she followed him without hesitation.

"Bye-bye~," called out the silver-haired man as the group moved away from the building. Ichigo stared ahead, palm sweating around the cord, and forced himself not to look back.


	3. Chapter 3

Note: Sorry for the delay. I was a little busy with some studying. Hopefully the next updates won't take as long.

Disclaimer: All characters are not mine.

* * *

**Night Flowers**

* * *

**Chapter 3:**

"That was definitely... memorable."

Ichigo looked at Mizuiro, but he couldn't think of anything to say. "Way too flashy, in fact," Mizuiro waved a finger at him, "Everyone will be talking about it for some time, at least, until someone is bought for higher."

Ichigo blushed – he was going to be the talk of the city for simply buying a slave like this? Especially this_ kind_ of slave, he could only imagine what lascivious gossip was going to go around.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it." Ichigo retorted.

"Like it or not, they will. You managed to upstage even the Kuchiki clan, who just happens to be the wealthiest land owners this side of the Nile. We share two borders of our land with theirs, and they could easily surround ours."

Ichigo tried to think about the implications that Mizuiro was hinting at, but it annoyed him, and Ichigo wasn't the type to think about annoying things for too long. Instead, he waved dismissively, and stole a furtive glance at the quiet girl at the end of the leash. She looked at him readily, with a carefully blank expression. Something about that gaze unnerved him.

"I-" he lowered the pitch of his voice, "Inoue, do you mind if I call you that?"

"You may call me anything you want, _master." _She smiled at him, but it only made him feel dismayed. _Idiot, _he chided himself. Was he expecting to see the sunny little girl he had played with in the dust years ago? This wasn't exactly what he had planned but...

"You don't have to call me mas-"

"There he is!" A shout rang in the distance where the torches signaled the entrance to the Kurosaki household. Ichigo groaned as he recognized Keigo and several of the servants jogging down the lane to meet their party.

"Oi, we heard you got yourself a beauty!" An excited Shuuhei gasped as he slowed down before them.

"What? How did you guys hear-"

"We gotta see! I bet 10 deben that she's got big-"

"SHUT UP!" Ichigo stood in front of Orihime to shield her from their view. "Aren't you all supposed to be in your quarters now? This isn't a free show, and we're all tired. So if you want to see her you'll have to do so tomorrow!"

Keigo tried to get a better view by going on tiptoe. Chad stepped forward. Keigo whined, "Awww, but we just wanna-"

"No! Everyone back to their quarters!" Ichigo ordered, even from a distance he could see that they had lit a couple of bonfires and were gambling in front of the main house while waiting. "Clean that up! Where's Tatsuki?"

More people were striding from the house to greet him. "Now Ichigo, it was all just in good fun, no need to get angry." Isshin walked towards him leisurely, accompanied by a widely smiling Urahara.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed, "It was you, wasn't it?"

"I just happened to drop by with some good news for my old friend here," Urahara chuckled. Ichigo never liked the way that man had eyed him since he was a child. "Things were already pretty festive here before I came."

"So you say," Ichigo glowered. As the men cleared out of the front entrance, he spied his sisters and Tatsuki bringing up the rear. Ichigo quickly waved her over and indicated Orihime, who had been standing behind him with her eyes downcast the entire time.

"Well, he wouldn't tell me certain details, but I think we've got some things to discuss," Isshin motioned for him to follow him into the house. Ichigo handed the leash to Tatsuki, mumbling an order to clean off the paint. His sisters nudged each other in the ribs and whispered, "Ichi-nii, she's _beautiful_. How did you find her?"

"Later," Ichigo mouthed, as he followed his father into the trading hall.

* * *

Isshin inspected the new slave's deed of ownership. "Hmmm. Sixty kit of gold." Isshin had been about to scratch his beard, but stopped midway. "That's ridiculous. I didn't even give you that much."

"I had to trade in some land as well, but I had to win," Ichigo glared at a point left of Isshin's shoulder. "Doesn't she look familiar to you? She's the apothecary's sister!"

Isshin frowned, taken aback by some distant memory before recovering. "Well - I know you get very passionate about saving people, but you'll have to account for why she costs that much."

Ichigo reddened, "Kuchiki bid 50 for her."

"Oh?"

Ichigo fidgeted, and Mizuiro stepped forward, "She's fully-trained as bedroom slave and entertainment, verified of young age and virginity. Acquiring her was very troublesome indeed."

Isshin glanced at the document, then back at Ichigo, "A fine luxury. Probably fit for the pharaoh. Well, I _did_ hand you the gold to spend for the day of your naming, and the land _is_ part of your inheritance, so-" he rolled up the parchment and handed it to Ichigo.

Ichigo accepted it, and bowed slightly, "Where should I assign her then?"

"Tomorrow, you'll round up all the slaves that I have deemed as part of your inheritance and I'll have you personally in charge of them from now on. So what happens to her is not mine to decide."

"But I bought her with your purse and –"

"It was a gift, remember? She doesn't belong to me. She belongs to you."

"To the family's –," Ichigo insisted.

"No," Isshin smiled, his eyes cryptic, "_to you._"

* * *

Urahara fanned himself while watching the heir walk away. "He's awfully young to be given decisions like this."

Isshin shrugged, "Frankly, I'd like to see what he'd do given full jurisdiction over a handful of slaves."

"What a cruel father you are. At most, you're risking lives here."

"I'm pretty sure I raised him as well as I could."

"But would the witch be proud of him as well?"

"At least call her Masaki, no matter what enmity you two had with each other – and she wasn't like that."

"That the boy inherited her golden locks instead of yours still gives me room for doubt that you had completely dissuaded her of her designs."

"Is that what that old 'breeding theory' of yours tell you? Isn't the embalmer also studying the same idea?"

Urahara chuckled, "Yes. And what a puzzle it would be for him if he's going to include your lineage – I'd say he just set himself back a couple of decades. Anomalies messing up the samples, how wonderful." He bid farewell as he moved to the exit, already preoccupied with his amusement.

Isshin looked askance at his departing friend. It was times like this when he remembered there was an aspect of madness mixed in with that genius.

* * *

Ichigo walked out of the hall deep in thought. He hadn't thought that his father would give him this much control of his portion of the land this soon, not to mention all the slaves that Ichigo had acquired over the years – about half a dozen from his own pockets, starting with Chad. If he was going to be in complete charge of his portion now, there would be so much to do, such as checking the crops, storage space rotation, new assignments, measuring floodplains and water level. Ichigo fought a moment of panic – he was more used to taking orders than giving them.

By habit, he fell into pacing around the compound and checking that all was in place before heading to his bedroom.

Ichigo pushed open the door to his bedroom and strode in. In the half-gloom of a lit oil lamp, he spied that the head rest he kept on the stool was missing. Puzzled, he turned to face the bed, and froze.

There, seated with her legs folded underneath her and head bowed in submission while waiting, sat Orihime. Not just Orihime normally, as Ichigo's eyes widened and his throat suddenly seemed to dry – but _all_ of her naked, gleaming skin displayed for his gaze to feast on. From his vantage point, her eyes were hidden by shadow, but her hair piled demurely across her shoulders, only sliding away to reveal the full curves of her breasts, delicate waist and creamy thighs-

His heartbeat pounded so loudly that Ichigo could barely hear himself think anymore. What was she doing here? No, he knew what she was here for – the thought suddenly made him feel warmth rushing through himself and his breathing quickened.

He found himself taking a step forward when his conscience screamed. Wait! This wasn't just any slave he was thinking about – this was someone he knew as a child. Orihime still sat there grimly waiting as if she faced death. As fast as desire had overtaken him, guilt blossomed as well and Ichigo suddenly felt sickened by his instinct.

Ichigo let out a choking noise, turned on his heel and fled the room.

Orihime looked up in confusion as the door slammed shut, and then the sound of running feet faded off. There she was, dreading what was coming and resolve steeled as hard as she could – and her master had run away at the first sight of her. This... this wasn't the reaction she expected.

She did a quick inventory of herself. Was her unpainted body not to his liking? Tatsuki had cleaned her face despite her protests, maybe she didn't look as ravishing anymore? She _is_ sitting on the right bed, isn't she? Maybe she should've kept her dress on?

Puzzled, Orihime forgot about her earlier trepidation and walked over to the door.

* * *

Ichigo pounded on the door to Tatsuki's quarters, "Tatsuki! I need to talk to you!"

She opened the door and yawned, "What? Ichigo, if she bled on the sheets, that means you got your money's worth-"

"Idiot! That's not what I –" Ichigo sputtered, "I didn't do anything! I'm not going to do anything like that! What is she doing in my room? I didn't tell you to leave her there!"

"Oh, you mean, actually get her a place to sleep in?" Tatsuki blinked, then grinned, "You're certainly a lot more prudish than I thought. Didn't your father buy her to get that stick out of your ass?"

"No! Just because I bought her from the Illusory Moon doesn't mean I wanted her that way." Ichigo fumed, "Besides, don't you normally let the new slave girls to sleep in your room when we're out of space?"

Tatsuki looked at him strangely, "You mean you forgot?" She stepped back to allow him a view of the chamber.

It was filled from one wall to another, stacked from floor to ceiling, with the wine jugs that the scribes had been counting earlier. Belatedly, Ichigo realized that their recent trade had just completed, and Tatsuki's quarters, being on the first floor of the house and having the same temperature as the storerooms, also served as extra space during such events. The few feet that had been spared were only for enough legroom for Tatsuki and her narrow pallet.

Tatsuki glared at him, "And we haven't started the wheat harvest yet. Obviously, I don't have room for any new slaves. And since you came home with one, I had _assumed_ that you meant to keep her in your room."

Ichigo started to protest, but then her words registered and his shoulders slumped. "Okay, I'm sorry."

"You should be telling that to the girl."

"I can't go back up there! She's -" Ichigo flailed, "_naked_, on my bed." The look of horror on his face made Tatsuki choke with laughter.

"Stop laughing! This isn't funny!"

Tatsuki fought to regain her breath, then looked at him in the eye, "Be a man, get back up there and apologize, then just _tell her._"

"I already told you, I can't-"

"You ever thought about what that girl's been through to end up that way?"

"Of course I did." Ichigo grew quiet for a moment. "Alright."

"Meanwhile, I'll try to think of something."

* * *

_Orihime had been sitting forlornly in a jail cell the first time she met the man called Aizen. With her brother gone and buried, they decided to call in her debts and had thrown her in here when the apothecary's belongings didn't suffice. Orihime felt apprehensive about the way the guards leered at her, but it seemed that the local officers had a different plan._

_In the dark, she had dreamt of escape, or perhaps a life of stagnant servitude. Gone would be the days when she and Sora drifted across the land plying their wares. But the door to the cell opened, and a tall, pleasant-looking man with brown wavy hair had stepped through._

"_Don't look at me like that," the man smiled, almost kindly, "I'm not here to save you."_

_At least he had been brutally honest. _

Orihime stood by the door and pressed her forehead into the cool wood, fingers worrying at the latch. She could lock the door now, but she was certain it'll end up just being battered down, and an angry master could mean worse things for her.

_The first humiliation, she remembered, was the examination from the elderly woman. Dry, rough skin on shriveled fingers scrabbling up her thighs, lifting her leg. Seeking, peering eyes that made her feel, for the first time in her life, that she was nothing more than an object for appraisal. Orihime had never wished so hard for the ground to swallow her alive._

Orihime clenched her fists. She had to try, or bear with the idea that if displeased, her master could easily pawn her off to anybody for amusement, have her lashed or some other degradation. Her stomach turned at the possibilities. That left… trying to figure out what went wrong.

Well, first things first – outside the closed door, she still had no idea where her master went, or how the house was structured. Orihime contemplated putting on the translucent dress again and searching, when she heard footsteps. She took a step back in case the door opened.

Nothing happened.

When the silence nearly stretched for a minute, Orihime grabbed the latch and peeked outside. Ichigo started at the sight of her.

"Inoue!" His eyes darted down briefly and registered some rather exciting details before he forced himself to concentrate solely on her face "L-look, I just wanted to tell you.."

"Yes, master?" Orihime frowned. He seemed to be affected by her somewhat, but struggled with something he couldn't quite verbalize.

"Well, I was thinking.." He paused while searching for what to say.

Orihime studied him. Maybe he needed some help? Did he prefer something exotic? If he had trouble telling her, then she'll have to go for the aggressive approach.

Ichigo gasped as Orihime looked up at him with huge, curious eyes. "Is there something wrong, master? What can I do for you?" She moved closer, pressing her generous bosom to Ichigo's chest. Bare skin grazed against skin for a second before Ichigo back-pedaled, registering the soft, silken feeling as if lightning had run up his spine.

"Wh- what the hell are you doing?"

"Asking you what you wish, Master?" Orihime purred, stepping through the doorway to touch him again.

"Ah, no. Maybe you should stay inside while I-" Ichigo gingerly stopped her progress by putting a palm against her shoulder, while attempting to close the door with the other hand.

"But master, am I displeasing you?" Orihime grabbed the door as well, pulling it open, "Do you have any special requests? I can do anything you want! If you wish pain, I can work with flechettes or knives without scarring! Or scourges and whips, and rope if you wish me bound! If you prefer men, I can work just as well with an implement!"

"No, no and no!" Ichigo sputtered, the red rising from his neck to his cheeks, and tugged on the door harder. "That's not what I –"

They heard someone clear their throat and the both of them paused in their struggle over the door. Tatsuki regarded them with a raised eyebrow.

"If you two are done playing, I brought a couple of things you might need."

* * *

"First, a decent dress." Tatsuki slid one made of the simple white linen that she also wore over the dumbfounded girl. Behind her, Ichigo moved a scribe's desk against a wall to another location, completely lost in concentration. Tatsuki had instructed him to move the assortment of baskets and boxes to another side of the room.

"Second, your own pallet." Tatsuki showed her the rolled up item, then turned to Ichigo, who was also waiting with questioning eyes, "This used to be your mother's chambers, wasn't it? You see that rod embedded in the ceiling? This was where she used to have a dividing curtain for her personal slave."

Ichigo looked up, and understood, "And the door we blocked off years ago was for the slave's door from here to the kitchens?"

"Yeah. The mistress was strange like that, but anything she wished for, she got." Tatsuki shrugged, "Anyway, you've got a big room here, so why not let her stay?"

"But there would only be a curtain between us!" Ichigo frowned, "that's uhhh, look – why don't we just switch rooms, you and Inoue can sleep here while I take Tatsuki's room and then-" He couldn't fathom having to share a room with the girl which, even now, he couldn't bring himself to look in the eye.

"Then lose your servants' respect in the morning? I thought you bought Inoue for your reputation?"

"Okay, then maybe she could switch with Sado instead-"

"You're digging a deeper hole with that one, if you'd rather have Sado in here with you than Inoue." Tatsuki remarked, "I'm sure everyone doesn't mind, as long you'd provide some heirs but –"

"No! It's not like that!" Ichigo threw his hands up, "Fine! She can stay here in my room!" He detached the rod and strung the curtain, the last item that Tatsuki brought. He accomplished the task while giving off the appearance of sulking.

"Well, I hope you don't wait until after she's gone to sleep to change your mind." Tatsuki said dryly.

"Sleep?"

They both turned to the girl who had been following the exchange with ever-widening eyes, "Go to sleep? Y-you mean, I don't have to do anything?" A kind of nervous hope hovered in her eyes.

"Well, not exactly," Tatsuki crossed her arms; "I suppose we could make a house slave out of you. Or if you have some skill at anything, like cooking or sewing, and since you're staying here you could be Ichigo's personal slave in the meantime."

"N-no, I mean, like," Orihime made a broad gesture towards Ichigo's bed.

Ichigo and Tatsuki shared a look, and then turned to her again with the barest hint of smiles. Tatsuki patted her on the head, "For once, I'm glad to be wrong about him, you really got lucky today, kid."

"Inoue," Ichigo intoned softly as he walked towards them, "was it really unthinkable for you that someone would want to buy you just to save you?"

Orihime looked into his eyes, and saw nothing but kindness there. Her vision blurred. Tatsuki sighed as the girl let out a sob and fell to her knees, then proceeded to cry like a child.

"Thank you! I'm so sorry, I thought-" Orihime gulped as she tried to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop coming, the nose that started to drip sloppily, and the heaving sobs that kept her from talking without blubbering. "T-thank you, thank-"

"There now," Tatsuki hugged her, "don't make me have to go downstairs for another dress." Ichigo looked troubled and sheepish at the sight, but Tatsuki waved a finger in his face, "You've certainly outdone yourself this time."

"I didn't mean to make her cry!"

"Don't mind the clumsy oaf, he should've told you sooner and in clearer terms," Tatsuki consoled the girl, whose sobs diminished while she tried to smile through her tears.

"I've been trying to-" Ichigo bit back his protest when Tatsuki glared at him again.

"Anyway, I think I should get going, I'm the first to wake in the morning," Tatsuki stood up and led Orihime to her bed, "and we've got a lot of things to do tomorrow." Orihime nodded and went behind the curtain, glad to retreat from their scrutiny.

Tatsuki stepped back from their handiwork, and then went to the door, "Now play nice, and don't give me a reason to punch you, Ichigo."

"Whatever." Glancing at the girl's silhouette, Ichigo plopped onto his bed and felt the day's fatigue suddenly overcome him. He didn't want to think anymore. His eyelids started to slide shut.

"Good night, Inoue."

Orihime started in surprise, before she stuttered a reply, "Good n-night, master."

But Ichigo was already asleep.


End file.
